


my hetero side just lost

by CallofTheCurlew



Category: Black Monday (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, PWP, Smut, brief mentions of his relationship with Tiff, that book of mormon fic title though, these boys will be the death of me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23589043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallofTheCurlew/pseuds/CallofTheCurlew
Summary: Some of Blair's thoughts during his first time with Roger, but mostly just an excuse for me to write smut.
Relationships: Roger Harris/Blair Pfaff
Comments: 5
Kudos: 55





	my hetero side just lost

**Author's Note:**

> I've crawled out of my Book of Mormon hole to fall into a Black Monday one, because my sister has an obsession with Andrew Rannells at the moment and that obviously means I need to be dragged along with it. *shrug
> 
> Where is all the fic for this cool af show?? I love Don Cheadle.

Blair Pfaff wouldn't exactly call himself vanilla when it came to the bedroom.  
  
Hell, he'd been with the same girl for 11 years. Boring missionary wasn't enough (for Tiff at least), and from there Blair learnt that having access to money also meant having access to a lot of expensive toys.  
  
He was no stranger to a paddle, or a rope and a gag. And sure, most of the time it was Blair being tied up and spanked, but maybe that's the way he liked it. There was something thrilling about letting go; about giving his vulnerabilities to a person he trusted and loved. Someone who laughed at his body in good spirit, who was self conscious of her own but blushed when Blair called her beautiful, even after eleven years.  
  
The intimacy of the bedroom had always been exhilarating for Blair; a moment suspended in time with another person who had sole intentions on making you _feel_.  
  
Tiff had been good for that. When their open relationship started (another of Tiff's brilliant ideas), he worried he wouldn't find someone else to be comfortable enough with.  
  
And then Roger Harris came along looking so smug in his suit and pulled him in by the lapels, unexpected and almost scary. He promised Roger that he wasn't gay, and Roger had done the same... but Blair wasn't so sure anymore. He could barely breathe, kissing those lips that were so unlike Tiffany's that it sent shockwaves all the way down his spine. And all he wanted was more.   
  
There in the motel room, Roger's busy hands pushed back his suit jacket as he kissed him, lips curved into a smirk as he moved from Blair's mouth to his jaw and the electricity of another man's stubble against his cheek almost had him reeling. Breathless and heady, Blair had stumbled from the door to the bed with him, hands roaming, pulling at Roger's tightly tucked shirt until it spilled over his pants and Blair could work his hands under the hem.  
  
Blair pressed his warm hands to Roger's stomach, feeling the way his abdominals quivered beneath, sliding up and up until he could graze his chest, flat and smooth with the barest smattering of hair. It served as a reminder of how much of a man Roger was, real and firm and who _wanted_ him.  
  
He could see it in Roger's eyes, hungry and wanting and desperate, his lips already red and swollen from his visceral attack on Blair's neck. His fingers pulled at Blair's buttons until he could pull his shirt open, staring at him for just a moment before he dipped.  
  
Blair couldn't help his moan as Roger's mouth bit and sucked its way down his chest, gnawing on his clavicle before he reached a nipple, delighting in teasing him to hear the symphony of pleasure that fell from Blair's mouth.  
  
He wanted to promise Roger that he wasn't this sensitive usually, that there was something else at play. The danger of it all; that being caught could mean terrible things for both of them somehow made every touch amplify by a thousand. It was a risk; a play, and made him feel alive in a way he hadn't since he stepped onto the trader's floor for the very first time. Back then, the world had wanted him.  
  
Now, it was only Roger.

Roger, who was falling to his knees and pulling his belt from its buckle. Hair fell into Blair's eyes and he wiped it away with frustration, wanting to drink in every second of this blasphemy. Wanting to drink in the fire in Roger's eyes as he pulled at Blair's buttons and tugged at his slacks until they fell in a heap.  
  
He watched Roger's eyes leave his face, falling down his body so slowly it was almost torturous.  
  
And then Roger laughed.  
  
Flushing, Blair took a step back and got tangled, almost falling backwards onto his ass, "What?" he hissed, trying to resist the urge to cover himself.  
  
"Just appreciating the choice of boxers - Joe Boxer, right?" the older man hummed, eye level with printed bananas all over the tight fabric, "Thought you'd be a Calvin Klein boy..."  
  
Relieved that Roger wasn't laughing at him, Blair huffed, one hand on his hip as he rolled his eyes, "Calvin's kind of the enemy, if you must know- actually, it's a funny story-."  
  
"Fascinating," Roger drawled, clearly uninterested, "But I'm going to suck you off now, if you don't mind?"  
  
Blair shut his mouth, nodding violently, "Yeah, okay. That does sound like a much better idea."  
  
True to his word, Roger smirked as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Blair's boxers, ignoring the banana print to pull them down his legs.  
  
Blair's stomach tightened, his legs tense as he waited for the judgement. Tiff could never resist a comment. But Roger didn't. He simply got more comfortable, taking Blair's cock in his hand and almost swallowing him whole. Blair half-shrieked in surprise as Roger didn't waste any time, his cheeks somehow hollowing even more than they were usually as he sucked until Blair was completely hard.  
  
"Holy fuck," Blair gasped, his fingers winding in Roger's short hair and tugging ever so slightly. When the moans encouraged him, Blair pulled harder, watching Roger's eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. Fuck, he was beautiful, and Blair was so horrendously taken with him it was embarrassing.  
  
Roger pulled off with a wet pop, staring up at Blair with a sluggish little smile, "You taste good, sweetness."  
  
It was absolutely filthy and Blair didn't know how he _did_ that, effortlessly sexy in a way that had Blair's insides curling with just one sentence. It probably helped that he was still holding his cock.  
  
"Holy shit," Blair managed, because that was about all that he was capable of saying.  
  
Roger laughed, getting to his feet with a soft groan, his knees cracking as they straightened.  
  
Blair couldn't help his little laugh, "Old man," he murmured, "Don't break a hip now."  
  
"You want to see what these hips can do?" Roger smirked, clearly taking it as a challenge.  
  
Blair gulped, watching helplessly as Roger pushed him back onto the bed. He hit the mattress with a soft thud, shifting back on his elbows until he could feel the comfort of a plush pillow. In front of him, Roger made a show of removing the rest of his clothes, exposing each inch of flesh with such unwavering confidence that Blair was seriously considering asking for notes. He supposed it came with the territory of being a Congressman; he had to hard sell whatever bullshit he was peddling.   
  
"You're hot," Blair stuttered.  
  
It made Roger smile, which was something, at least. Almost predatorily, he crawled forward with a smirk that made Blair feel like a rack of lamb, ready for the taking. His legs fell open and Roger crawled between them, hovering over him to kiss him messily. The hand not holding him up wandered to Blair's cock once more, squeezing at the base which had Blair gasping needily into his mouth.  
  
"You're hot," Roger purred back softly.  
  
Blair was painfully (and maybe embarrassingly) close, letting out a pitiful whine when Roger's hand left his cock for what was the third time tonight.  
  
"I'm starting to think you don't know how to let a guy finish," Blair mumbled snootily, but all protests died on his lips when he felt Roger's fingers brush his entrance.  
  
When it came to the bedroom, Blair didn't think he was vanilla. But this was new. This was territory that Tiff had never ventured towards; a taboo that was unspoken and off-limits between them.  
  
"Oh," Blair whispered, his eyes blown wide as he stared up at Roger, clutching his forearm as if to brace himself, "Um."  
  
"Breathe," Roger murmured, pressing a kiss that was surprisingly gentle to his lips.  
  
Blair melted against him, thoroughly distracted by his mouth until he stiffened in surprise at the sudden intrusion, "Oh my god."  
  
Roger's mouth curved up into a smile against his lips, "You sound surprised."  
  
"I'm fine," Blair whispered breathily, closing his eyes for just a moment to adjust mentally, "Perfectly fine, keep going."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
At the very least, Blair felt safe with this man, despite not knowing him for very long. He nodded easily, pulling Roger in for another long, messy kiss.  
  
His finger disappeared and Blair felt himself huffing again, "Make up your mind," he grumbled, and Roger laughed as he pulled away completely.  
  
Blair watched him curiously, a second of doubt in his mind that he'd done something wrong before Roger produced a bottle of Astroglide from his bedside table. It all made sense now, and he relaxed against the pillows again, chuckling.  
  
"You gonna fuck me?" he asked, his heart racing.  
  
"You want me to fuck you?" Roger teased back.  
  
For a fleeting moment, Blair wondered if he should tell him that he'd never slept with another man before, despite the rumours, but...he figured Roger would figure it out pretty quick if that was something he cared about. Instead he lay back, spreading his legs that little bit wider with an inviting smile.  
  
The lube was cold as Roger smeared it everywhere it wasn't needed; Blair couldn't stop gasping against his mouth every time the slippery goo made contact with his skin, but he couldn't help but be grateful for it when Roger finally stopped teasing and slid two fingers inside him.  
  
He hissed with the burn, eyes squeezing shut until Roger was kissing his tense mouth, coaxing him into relaxing. Blair fought against every instinct to tense up, clinging to Roger for dear life and letting out a long breath.  
  
"You alright there?" Roger asked quietly, and there was a hint of teasing in his voice that Blair didn't like at all.  
  
"Shut up," Blair snapped defensively, somehow still self-conscious with another man's fingers in his ass, "Have _you_ ever tried this?"  
  
"Good point," Roger smirked, biting Blair's lower lip.  
  
Thankfully Roger was patient with him, and together they slowly worked towards three fingers.  
  
"I don't know how much longer I'm gonna last," Blair confessed. He'd been hard and leaking ever since he'd gotten over the initial shock of what they were doing, his cock aching and desperate for release.  
  
"We haven't even gotten to the best bit yet..." Roger murmured with a small smile, and Blair cocked his head curiously.  
  
"What, you actually getting to stick your dick in me?"  
  
Roger laughed quietly, "No," he murmured, another devilish smirk on his lips as he crooked his fingers.  
  
Blair _yelped_ , hips jerking violently as his body erupted with pleasure, no control over the fact that he was coming messily all over his stomach. Roger laughed at him _again_ , but Blair was hardly paying attention, too focused on trying not to pass out from the way his body shuddered. Everything tingled; electricity sparking down to his fingertips and toes. Tiff had never been able to bring such an orgasm from him; not even in their wildest sessions.  
  
"I didn't even have to touch you," Roger marvelled, his fingers brushing his prostate again just to watch Blair whine and keen.  
  
Blair glared at him, spent and exhausted and not in the mood for his games, "Sorry I came so quickly..."  
  
"Doesn't bother me," Roger murmured, giving him a little grin before he dipped his head, dragging his tongue down Blair's chest to lick up the mess there.  
  
Blair didn't mean to find it so hot but there he was, his cock twitching half-heartedly with interest, "Holy shit," he murmured. Tiff didn't even like blowing him half the time.  
  
He expected that to be the end; for Roger to pull out his fingers and wish him a good night. Blair didn't really want to get up and leave though; he needed a good nap.  
  
But there was no stopping. Roger stretched him further and without the heady height of a looming orgasm, he felt every painful millimetre.  
  
"You're- uh, still gonna do this, then?"   
  
"I was planning on it. Some of us still have raging hard-ons. That still okay with you?"  
  
Blair was amazed, but he couldn't quite figure out why. In his head, as the guy bottoming, it seemed only natural for the night to end once he was done.  
  
Apparently not.  
  
"Think you're ready to take my cock now?"  
  
If Blair thought he was done being turned on, he was terribly wrong. Even that little sentence had him groaning, back arching. He couldn't even speak, simply nodding desperately as he clung to Roger that little bit tighter.  
  
There was a moment to rearrange. More lube and Blair watched with curiosity as Roger rolled on a condom, having never seen it done from this angle. More lube followed, which Blair thought was a little excessive (he was wrong).  
  
"Ready?" Roger murmured, hitching one of Blair's legs up to angle him better as he settled between them, kissing the top of his knee briefly.  
  
The kiss was so sweet that it had Blair melting, nodding and staring adoringly at Roger with all the trust in the world.  
  
The blunt pressure was a shock; so completely different to his fingers that the first press of him caught Blair off-guard and immediately he tightened up with a sharp gasp, eyes squeezing shut.  
  
"Holy fuck," Roger whined, squeezing Blair's hip tightly, "Easy, relax... Take a breath."  
  
"Sorry, sorry..." Blair whispered, suddenly grateful for the extra lube as he felt every inch by painful inch that Roger stuffed him with. He tried to relax, focusing on the soothing circles that Roger was tracing against his hip, and the soft grunts and groans that Roger was making. Anything to keep him from thinking about how full he felt, how incredibly wrong it was and when was it supposed to feel good?   
  
"Jesus," Roger murmured, "You're so motherfucking tight."  
  
"Sorry?" Blair mumbled weakly, forcing his eyes open.  
  
It was a good idea. The imagine of Roger above him, flushed down to his chest, sweating with his perfect hair falling over his face was a good look. Blair couldn't help but reach up to cup his jaw, almost bending in half to reach his lips in a desperate kiss.  
  
It was that change of angle that forced Roger completely inside him, the extra length causing his cock to rub against his prostate once more and Blair gasped. So now- now was when it was supposed to feel good.  
  
"Holy shit," Blair managed, his mouth falling open in surprise.  
  
Roger smirked, bracing one hand on the bed so he could start moving. He rocked against him, shallow thrusts that made Blair moan with each pass, slowly growing longer and longer until Blair was moving in time, desperate to chase the snap of his hips against his own.  
  
Blair clung to him, unable to distinguish his moans from Roger's, holding onto him tightly. Sweat ran down his forehead and down his chest, and somehow he was hard again. Everything was happening without him being consciously aware of it, lost in the moment, in the movement and the friction and the perfection that was this. _This_ moment with Roger Harris, a _man_. He wondered if saying it over and over again in his head would make it any less surreal.  
  
"Close," Roger grunted against his ear all too soon. Blair wished it could've gone on forever.  
  
He slowly withdrew that thought when he felt Roger's hand on his cock again; squeezing tight before it was moving in counter-time with Roger's hips. Blair couldn't breathe; unable to reasonably believe that pleasure could come from two places in such perfect tandem, his body alight and thrumming and _glowing_ until he was coming again with a desperate cry, spilling over his stomach once more.  
  
This time he thinks he might've _actually_ blacked out for a second, spots in his vision and nothing but the solid final thrusts of Roger's hips keeping him grounded.  
  
He feels it when Roger comes, despite the condom separating them. It's cheesy but Blair can't help but feel their closeness and unity, laying there, barely able to feel his limbs as Roger finishes. He's beautiful; the sharp lines of his body taut as he comes with a long groan, and Blair just stares; sated and lazy.  
  
Blair idly hopes he's a cuddler.  
  
Feeling Roger pull out is officially the worst part. Blair would give anything to keep him inside forever, so he never has to feel the awfulness of being empty and clenching around nothing. He gasps and whines, half tempted to replace Roger's cock with his own fingers. He's distracted before he can chase the thought any further though, watching as Roger removes the condom, disposing of it and returning with a damp cloth. He drops it unceremoniously on Blair's chest and he sighs happily at how good it feels; cool against his burning skin.  
  
"You okay there?" Roger asks with a small smile, and Blair wonders if there's a hint of fondness there.  
  
"Mmm..." Blair murmurs, rubbing the cloth over his stomach lazily.  
  
Roger chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, "You staying here tonight?"  
  
Blair wasn't even supposed to be here to begin with. A quick elevator pitch of why he should vote and that was all. But now, Blair can't even begin to consider leaving the bed.  
  
"That okay?"  
  
"Fine with me. Means we get a round two in the morning..."  
  
Blair knows he's going to hurt in the morning. He can already feel it now. But he wouldn't mind a chance at getting his mouth on Roger's cock. He'd always wondered what it was like.  
  
Roger slides under the covers next to him, and Blair considers it too before he abandons the idea completely, his eyes already half lidded. If the cleaning lady happened upon him, stark naked on top of the covers, well that was her own fault.  
  
He does manage to turn his head to Roger, lazily grinning at him, "Thanks."  
  
"For fucking you stupid?"  
  
"Yeah," Blair mumbles around a yawn, "Exactly that."  
  
"My pleasure."  
  
Blair wants to tell him that it's not true; it was his pleasure, but the words don't make it past the two seconds of thought spared for them. Instead his eyes close, and he's asleep in moments.  
  
In a traditional relationship, Blair Pfaff wouldn't exactly call himself vanilla. He enjoyed the dangerous side of his sex life; the experimentation and the test of limits. Sex with Roger is just sex; basic and nothing out of the ordinary... But for Blair Pfaff, it feels different to anything he'd ever experienced. Filthier, more intense, and so much better than anything he could've experienced with his wife.   
  
He can't help but wonder why.


End file.
